Its existence wriggles as it transforms slowly to nothingness, just like me, losing myself in the paradoxical bubble of reality. Another tear follows, meeting its predecessor on its way down my cheeks, struggling to escape the stubble. They embrace each other and lose themselves together as they diminish.

How impolite of them to personify my life in all their gestures! They bulge on the little cliff that my chin forms. I think they stare down, at the pillow they’re destined to seep into; or probably up into the eyes they were expelled from, where a million more of them remain, and a million of them have been shed. Even the skimpiest of breezes takes away a part of them with it, just like the trails on my cheek did, but the salted emotions in them remain.

I wonder if the tears cry after losing a part of themselves. After all, they personify me so well. Gravity takes over the accumulated tears as I let out a brisk sigh, and they fall off aimlessly losing the spark in them, plunging into the darkness underneath. They seep into the pillow my head rests on: the sink of my emotions. Caressing the cotton strands along the way, they feel the touch of their lost fractions who had embraced the fibers in the past; when I had shed my tears the other night. The lost tears are destined to meet, no matter how ruthless you were to them. I think they don’t personify me anymore.